


Tau'ri Bards and the Lack Thereof

by meyari



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-30
Updated: 2010-03-30
Packaged: 2017-10-08 13:04:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/75925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meyari/pseuds/meyari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ronon has a question that no one seems to know the answer to: Where are the Tau'ri bards?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tau'ri Bards and the Lack Thereof

**Author's Note:**

> It always bothered me how little music there was for the various native people in the Pegasus galaxy. Yeah, yeah, I know. It's a TV show. They have soundtracks and music in the neighborhood of the characters would conflict but I've got a logical mind and the lack of it bothered me. So after pondering, I have fic on Bards to kind of, not quite address that.

"I am not sure," Teyla said slowly and thoughtfully as she gazed out over the ocean. "It is a matter that has always puzzled me. I am afraid that I have yet to discover an answer that satisfies me. John's answer when I questioned him about it was… less that helpful and Rodney's answer was a bit too helpful, I am afraid."

"You mean John shrugged and looked shifty and Rodney talked your ear off until you walked away," Ronon interpreted.

"I believe that is what I said," Teyla said, amusement sparkling in her eyes. "Perhaps if you ask you will get different answers."

"Maybe," Ronon said as doubt twisted his face into a grimace.

Her calm nod acknowledged that there was very little likelihood that their teammates' responses would be any different. Their discussion shifted to the weather on the world they were visiting and the fine quality of the food they'd been given. Ronon's question haunted the back of his mind as they negotiated, discovered things they weren't supposed to and then got chased back to the Ring of the Ancestors under fire. Literal fire since they had catapults that fired flaming projectiles at the team. Dodging fireballs from the sky didn't bother him as much as the lack of Bards among the Tau'ri. Their absence had been bugging him ever since he arrived in the city.

The contrast between silence punctuated by fiery explosions and the quiet music playing in the infirmary just underlined it for Ronon. The Tau'ri had music everywhere but they'd come to trade with not one Bard among them that Ronon could see. It made no sense. Once Teyla's stitches were done and the burn on Rodney's elbow had been treated they went to the conference room to debrief. Soft music played in the background, soothing and nearly unnoticed unless you were paying attention. Their debrief was a short one since how many ways could you explain that you'd seen what you weren't supposed to and they attacked?

Ronon waited until the others left, wondering if Weir could answer his question. She looked at him with that polite smile that mixed with a concerned frown while shuffling her papers. Rather than loom and make her nervous, Ronon decided to just spit it out.

"Where're your Bards?" Ronon asked as she opened her mouth to ask if she could help him.

"Excuse me?" Weir asked. She rocked back on her heels as if he'd just started spouting the entire Ballad of the Highlands at her, in proper rhyme and full accent.

"Bards, the people who play music, tell stories, go on trade missions," Ronon explained. "Where are yours?"

Weir looked like she was trying to parse the question out into every syllable to make it more understandable. It was like she was looking for hidden traps that might jump up and grab her. Ronon suppressed the urge to stomp out of the room. She was their leader. Of all of the Tau'ri she should know why there weren't any Bards among their number. She probably had a hand in keeping them out of the mission, after all.

"We didn't bring any musicians," Weir said slowly. "And we have no need for someone to tell stories. You know as well as I do that everyone takes their turn on trade missions, everyone qualified, of course. I'm not sure I understand your question."

Ronon sighed, shaking his head at her. "Never mind."

Ronon asked Zelenka later that day, then Lorne. Neither of them had any clue what he was talking about. He questioned a few of the Marines after a training session and got blank stares in return. The anthropologists heard about his question and a couple of them chattered at him for several hours, asking questions about the Satedan Bards and what role they played in Satedan life. In the end he had to growl at them and stomp away to escape. They hadn't answered his question anyway, just posed new ones.

How could a society have so much music everywhere and no Bards? Who remembered the stories? Who taught the children the tales of the Ancestors, or whatever the Tau'ri called it? Teyla's people had a bard. Halling wasn't what Ronon thought Bards should be but he was full of stories and just as wise as they always were. His son Jinto at least had a good singing voice. Ronon thought he'd be a great bard if he survived to adulthood.

Several missions came and went, with the usual mixture of boredom and excitement. The last one was horrible, full of terrible food, horrible music and people trying to make off with John to 'repopulate their people'. Ronon made sure to stay with him as the evening progressed. He never saw it coming. It was annoying carrying him back to the Ring, especially when he'd been drugged out of his mind.

"God, that's awful," John complained as one of the musicians plinked at his instrument.

"It is a complicated instrument," the musician complained with a pointed glare at him that wilted under Ronon's growl. "I doubt that you could do as well."

"Give," John immediately said, holding out his hand. "Come on, hand it over."

The musician, Ronon wouldn't dignify him with the title of Bard, snarled but handed over his instrument. John spent a minute tightening the strings and testing the sounds they made before nodding. He set his fingers and started to play a sad song that Ronon remembered hearing in John's quarters once before Movie Night. Everyone stilled, watching and listening to him play. John's ears went red and he ducked his head for a moment but he still started singing at the proper point.

The song talked about love and losing it, about walking alone until you found what you needed. John's eyes saw things far away as he sang for them. His voice wasn't great, kind of rough and scratchy but it suited the song perfectly. A chill ran up Ronon's spine at how perfectly the song, music, John's voice and the situation melded together to form the perfect experience. Once the song was done John passed the instrument back.

"I was not aware that you were a Bard," the musician said a great deal more respectfully. He gently caressed the neck of his instrument as if it had just been blessed.

"I'm not," John said with a self-depreciating shrug. "I just know some songs. That's about the only instrument I can play."

"We don't have Bards," Rodney said. His normal scorn had been knocked down by at least half, maybe a little more. Ronon was glad to see that John's song had touched him, too. "All the little tasks have been split up among different people, so you've got musicians, singers, writers, story tellers, people who go out and learn about other cultures, and so on. No one person does it all anymore."

"Why?" Ronon asked, realizing that this might be the answer to his question.

"Don't know," John shrugged. He rubbed the back of his neck at the way the musician was still looking at him. "It's just the way it is."

The rest of the evening went fairly well but they still woke up to more negotiations that turned into an argument when Rodney insulted the food the headman's wife had made. The argument turned into a brawl and then they were running back to the gate, Rodney complaining as hard as he could when he was panting for breath and ducking under arrows. They had to play hide and seek at the Ring before they could get through. The checkup went well, as did their report after that. Ronon waited until everyone left. He had another question for Weir.

"What is it this time?" Weir asked, an amused look in her eyes as she stood up.

"How many people are on your planet?" Ronon asked. "You know, total."

"Approximately six billion," Weir replied, the amusement shifting into confusion again. She seemed to be confused by him a lot.

"Oh," Ronon breathed as the implications of that number rolled over in his mind.

"That's it?" Weir asked, cocking her head at him.

"Yeah. That's it. Thanks."

Ronon left, walking slowly to the cafeteria. Sateda had been a heavily populated planet for their galaxy. He still remembered the news reports when the world population had topped one million when he was twelve. People had talked about how it was the end of the world, that there wouldn't be enough food or water for everyone, and that the Wraith would come to cull automatically because they'd gotten so overpopulated. A lot of people had emigrated to other worlds, claiming that Sateda was too crowded to be comfortable. Or safe.

He'd grown up in the city, surrounded by other people, so he sort of knew what the Tau'ri's world must be like. Instead of villages surrounded by wide expanses of nature, there would be cities surrounded by houses and farms. No matter where you went, there would be people. Ronon would bet that with six billion humans on one world, there literally wasn't one single place on the planet that was untouched.

"No way for a Bard to keep up with it all," Ronon murmured. "Can't learn all the songs. Can't hear all the news. Can't learn all the instruments, so they split it up."

He nodded and gazed out one of the windows across the city. All of the Tau'ri were Bards of one sort or another and at the same time none of them were. John played his guitar and sang a few songs. Rodney knew piano. Zelenka told 'fairy' tales. Lorne carried the news. Weir solved problems and helped people understand each other. Every single one of them had the soul of a Bard and they'd followed the Wanderer's Call to come to a new galaxy and learn of new people, new stories, and new worlds.

Ronon smiled. Maybe sometime he'd find some drums and see if his music worked with theirs. He wasn't a Bard but if the Tau'ri could seize their individual shards of Bardic talent, maybe he could too. At least then not everything from Sateda would be gone.


End file.
